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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25509112">Reunion</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raikishi/pseuds/Raikishi'>Raikishi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Battle Couple, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Reunions</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:28:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,776</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25509112</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raikishi/pseuds/Raikishi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>He has always had a scheme for his dearest Teach.</p>
  <p>Be it feeling out a chip in Fort Merceus’ armor or providing a distraction before a reanimated legend.</p>
  <p>This, he decides as the salt drenched flames assaulting Derdriu hits his face, is the very least he can do for her.</p>
</blockquote>Claudeth day 4: reunion
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>116</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Reunion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> United Fodlan comes under attack a mere eight months after its founding.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Yet another war within itself. Imperial forces striking in the night, ambush at the monastery. Then an army at Derdriu. Tactics stirring from the dark, as was suitable for the Fodlan cowards. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Claude is surprised it takes this long but foresight does not keep the breath in his lungs and his wits about him when the news comes. His mind stutters black with panic, thoughts silent and still for once in his life, unable to summon enough words for the sheer terror that blots his heart. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He has no idea how he gets from audience chambers to wyvern pen. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">To Fodlan’s Throat. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">To Derdriu. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He has no idea what is said. What inane lie or truth spills from his lips. What promises he’s made and what riches he has promised. But whatever it is, convinces the nobles and his father’s former generals. Gathers courtiers and advisors. Soldiers and army lay their loyalty at his feet, ready to come to the aid of long-time enemies because he has always managed <em>somehow </em>for Byleth. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He has always had a scheme for his dearest Teach. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Be it feeling out a chip in Fort Merceus’ armor or providing a distraction before a reanimated legend. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> This, he decides as the salt drenched flames assaulting Derdriu hits his face, is the very least he can do for her. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Gloucester’s retreated,” Felix says, a cut on his mouth bleeding sluggishly. He looks furious and Byleth understands him well enough to know it is fear and not anger.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Good,” she says and Felix glowers harder, his hand white-knuckled around his blade.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “He’s regrouping with Ingrid’s troops, moving around the back of this wave,” Sylvain explains for her, “Thinning their numbers before they enter the town.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “It’s not going to be enough,” Felix says, “The Imperial numbers are too large and still growing. Mixed in with those rats from the dark.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You sound almost like his Highness now,” Sylvain says and Felix snaps on him with a growl.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I know,” Byleth interrupts their squabble before it can begin, “But it will buy us enough time to get the civilians out.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “And yourself,” Felix says with a thin reed of hesitation. Understanding he will not allow himself to accept. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Sylvain’s eyes dim, the smile turning stiff. The two of them silent as they await her instruction. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Claude would have a few words for her about carelessness. Thin his lips in disapproval as he shifted for a scheme. Something to weasel their way out of his mess as he’d done in Merceus.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Against her chest, his ring presses insistently into the space between her sternum. A lacking substitute.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He is not here now. And he is not Queen.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Byleth, alone, bears the title of Ruler of Dawn and she smiles at her former students, shedding crown and scepter for sword and steed. Dons the mercenary and general like an old cloak. The Crest of Flames roars in her blood and her sword responds. For a half-second she can nearly hear Sothis again, solemn and mournful. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>The earth weeps with warfare.</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Before the Goddess falls away, leaving her with a bitter flame that burns her through.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Byleth,” Felix says, his tone urgent as if any of them had ever been able to convince her from the battlefields. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Take your troops after Gloucester,” she tells them both, “Goneril is coming from the east. The Knights of Seiros as well. I will hold here until they do.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Goneril’s going to touch ground the same time the Knights are Seiros are,” Sylvain muses, his tone deceptively light. His eyes are too knowing, <em>“Too late.”</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I will hold until then,” Byleth says.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You’d need at least three hundred more men with you,” Felix says, entire body bristling. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> By his side, Sylvain maintains a grim smile, his posture stiff. The two of them understanding well that she meant to buy them all enough time. Had done so as their Professor then General and now Queen.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> A part of her is oddly touched to recognize the terror and grief in their faces and she steps up to hold them both as if she were comforting them after Conand Tower and Gronder respectively. It’s a quick gesture. There was only so much time for comfort in warfare.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Am I not worth a hundred men?” she asks with a light smile, pretending she does not understand the maps and numbers. Pretending briefly, she was only a Professor who offered light advice and a silent ear for their worries. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She doesn’t hear what they say to stop her as she leaps on her horse, the Crest of Flames burning her skin and lighting the skies. Marking her a beacon as she roars into battle. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Hilda acknowledges her new troops with a grin and a vicious swing of her ax. She cleaves through the Demonic Beast that’d greet them, the two sides of the monster splitting around her in a grotesque parody of opening curtains.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Claude hears a rumble of approval through his forces. Glimpses a little grin on the face of at least one of his generals.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I’ll take your ground units and half your archers,” Hilda says, facing them all with a sweetly fiendish smile, as if she were wheedling favors from unsuspecting students once again, “Surely you can spare them. The King of Almyra wouldn’t run into warfare without his navy pulling into the harbor.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “What do you take me for, Hilda?” Claude asks, shooting down mages at her back, “I always come bearing the best gifts.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Hilda snorts before turning to her new group, her voice clear as she shouts orders at them. No longer wavering as she guides men and women about. She sends a few westwards to align with Gloucester. Keeps more than half for herself and demands they cut a path. Claude wonders briefly if it was Gronder in which he’d last seen her wail and whine about playing leader and commander.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You have somewhere else to be,” Hilda says, fixing him with an unamused look.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “After taking my best men, you expect me to dive into that,” Claude huffs but he pulls his wyvern skywards again, in search of his heart. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He finds her immediately.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He’s had years of practice after all. Always scanning the world for a glimpse of his beloved Teach. He had found her all those years back, amongst Garreg Mach students when her hair still marked her as common folk, not yet touched by gods and legends. Found her on Gronder through smoke and fire. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> And he finds her now. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> A single rider on horseback rushing to meeting the intruders as they break the city walls. Her horse cutting a line through the city, between friend and foe.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The Crest of Flames burns the air, calling for them like a beacon fire. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> An intangible banner that will only burn and fall when she does.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “As if you wouldn’t go running to her even without troops and soldiers,” Hilda says but he is already halfway gone.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Byleth rips through mages and ground units, throwing them to the mouths of their beasts before she takes the heads of those as well. At her back, her few mounted units scramble into some semblance of a formation as her grounded troops struggle with the sheer strength of the Demonic Beasts. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She does not allow herself to think Claude would have mustered the aerial troops into a workable formation by now. Does not allow her thoughts to drift. Not now. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She loses the horse to a beast and rips revenge through the thing’s heart, throwing it before their general as she faces them at last. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> With a sweep of her blade, she gouges out a line in the earth between Those Who Slither and her people, one barrier line to be crossed as she angles a rictus of a smile at their new leader. Daring them all. Old fury that was not all hers roars in her blood as she faces them down. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You were looking for me,” she says, snaring their attention, burning the Crest hotter and feeling it pulse in place of a heart.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> In another time, Claude had played this distraction with her at his back. Ready to lunge. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Here and now, she has only her meager troops. In his place, her few soldiers draw in close. Beat their shields in a sign of solidarity. She does not think about how the sounds only mark out the clear difference in their numbers. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Arundel’s successor ignores them all in favor of her. His gaze hateful and made bitter by a vengeance cultured long before she was born. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sothis’ heart burns. The sensation an old ache. Muscle memories of her last death.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Byleth shakes the thought from her head. Possibilities and what-ifs were for strategists off the field. Here and now, she was only a warrior with her sword. She carves a smile on her face as she lets the Crest burn through her. Soaking up the strength and power it lent. Holds her sword high. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Come if you dare!” she snarls her taunt and the world around her roars into battle.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Byleth is where she always is. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In the thickest part of the fight. Her profile to him, her focus on enemies in her path.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> A one-woman army.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> A Queen bearing the weight of her people.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Her soldiers are slow to follow. Their numbers too small. Outnumbered and nearly overwhelmed. It’s only Byleth who keeps the fight going. The only person that makes it still a fight. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Byleth makes a gesture, one Claude recognizes from all his time at her back. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The archers are to descend when she next calls for them. But they’re few and far in between. A modest unit still scrambling into formation. From the look on her face, it’s something she knows. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Claude pauses, holding up his hand for his own forces. A student at her back again. Waiting for her call. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He shivers as her blade carves into the earth, gouging out a thick wound between her army and theirs. Tracks the strength of her arms and the brilliant burn of the crest through her body. An incredible display of power. Showy and unexpected and unlike her at all. But it draws the result she wants.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Wyverns shriek as they peel back from the flying debris. Infantry skid to a halt just before her border. Those Who Slither turn to her, their new general grinning mad as Byleth raises the Sword of the Creator. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Come if you dare!” Byleth roars. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> And he hears the command for what it is.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Her fire rips through beast and man and he rushes forward as the wind for her inferno.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He drags his units in a descent, the air filling with the screams of wyverns and all-too-eager Almyran soldiers. Wyvern claws rip through the back wave of soldiers against her. And a volley of arrows rains down on the beasts and mages, his army splintering her enemy forces in two. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Byleth doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even turn.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But the change in her is immediate. Her relief palpable. He can see the shift in her attention, see it fall away from the aerial units, and moving to grounded troops. Her focus on infantry units and the Demonic Beasts. Leaving him to snipe their ranged foes before they could even aim at her back. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She gestures for the new soldiers that he’s brought her, sends them through the fields expertly as he takes over her fliers and archers. The shift making the battlefield chaotic and focused all at once. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Just the way Byleth likes. He is well aware she revels in chaos she has caused, prying at weakness and confusion with the viciousness of a mercenary trained for survival. Mercilessly efficient as she razes through enemy troops. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He drops behind her, lending his support in her path, taking out the few snipers that aim at her from afar. Words he wants to say burning his throat as he frees an arrow just past her head into a mage that aims a glyph at her face. The words trembling on his tongue as she swings around him to tear open a Demonic Beast as its teeth hover over him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>There would be time enough later. </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The knowledge passes between them unspoken as if they had never been parted. Months and seasons marked by lonely want crumbling to pieces, swallowed up by the simple touch of her back against his. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> In the distance, a flag rises up. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The air spotting with wyverns and Pegasi. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The Knights of Seiros arriving. Seteth at their head.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Goneril raises their flag. Hilda’s enormous battle-ax comes down hard on a scattered enemy. Claude’s commanders at her sides in support. From the west, Gloucester rides through the gates, buttressed by Gautier and Fraldarius. At the harbor, the Almyran navy fires a canon in declaration. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Victory burning at the edges of their battle cry. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You’re all late,” Byleth tells them afterward, “Detention for all of you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “As house leader, Claude volunteers to take your punishment,” Hilda says, whip quick as she pushes Claude in front.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to do that,” Sylvain says with a low whistle and Ingrid kicks out his knees from beneath him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “That is improper,” Lorenz says stiffly, his face twitching as he looks Claude up and down. He lowers himself woodenly into a bow, “Your Majesty.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Ooh, what a poor bow,” Claude mocks, a finger to his chin as he makes a show of examining Lorenz’s form, “What was it you tried to drill into me all those years ago? Bend at the waist. Hand to the heart. No, no, no - ‘never look a royal in the face, you uncultured –‘“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “My sincerest apologies,” Lorenz grits out and Hilda shoves at them both, shaking free Marianne who cries at her to stay still for her wounds.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “The most you’re getting outta me is this,” Leonie says with a dip of her head.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Acceptable,” Claude declares.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"He's worth less than that," Felix huffs.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey now –“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Claude's voice trails off as he catches Byleth’s eyes.<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She raises an eyebrow, her pulse quickening at the sight of him. He looks as he had the day they’d defeated Nemesis, green eyes bright with the adrenaline of battle. His perfect coif a mess. His face and chest torn with scratches. A victor’s smile on his mouth and not for the first time she wants to lick the sunlight from his lips. The world falls away around them as he steps closer to her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She expects him to grab for her as he had in the Goddess Tower. To take her in his arms again but he stops before her, taking her hand slowly as he drops to a knee. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> His lips trek up her knuckles, linger on the back of her hand. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Your Majesty,” he says, his head bowed over her wrist, and her eyebrows drift higher.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> She is all at once aware of the new army he leads and the new flag he waves. No longer her banner but his own. At his back, Almyran troops look back at her, assessing an unfamiliar queen. A moment of anxiety stirs her chest. She’d never marked herself out as a graceful queen steeped in noble rights and their silly rituals. And for one moment she wonders if he had been expecting to find her as –</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He weaves their fingers together, green eyes brilliant and as he tilts his face to her with a cheeky smile with none of the politeness proper of a visiting king. His thumb rubs a slow line down the center of her palm before he turns her hand and holds it flat against his cheek, angling a kiss into the very center, “Did you miss me?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Immensely,” she replies, unable to be anything but honest and his smile goes radiant and adoring, bright and golden as the sun. Outshining all the stars he so admired as he lunges up to take her in his arms as she’d wanted him to do earlier. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He presses his face to her throat, a tremble in his breath as he cradles her head. Drinking in her presence as she does him. He smells of spiced heat and a world she was only faintly aware of. His earring digs into her cheek, presence warm and solid and <em>here</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You were still late,” she huffs, burying her face in his sleeve.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “As Sylvain said,” he purrs in her ear, stirring embers in her belly, “I am more than happy to take whatever punishment you wish to dole out.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry! I think this will the last one for Claudeth week as I'm drawing a blank for ideas on the rest. Also, wanted to get back to Ties that Bind and a few oneshots ideas I've been throwing around</p></blockquote></div></div>
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